


and the cure

by junes_discotheque



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 05:20:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17481977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junes_discotheque/pseuds/junes_discotheque
Summary: Post-5x10. Barry and Cisco have a chat.





	and the cure

**Author's Note:**

> So 5x10 had some nonsense, and I wrote a thing instead of studying.

The equation hasn’t made sense for at least an hour. A few lines back, Cisco hit on a tangent he’d thought was the key to making an actual breakthrough, but looking at it now, it’s just a mess.

 

_Start over._

 

Cisco sighs and turns to dig through the papers and discarded coffee cups and soda bottles littering his workspace. He vaguely remembers dropping the eraser there last night--or maybe the night before. Time’s been a little wonky for him lately.

 

As he’s staring at a page of numbers that definitely aren’t in his handwriting, he hears an echo of footsteps in the hall. His hands itch along the scars that are no longer there, and Cisco digs his nails into his palms, forcing his arms to stay at his sides. He breathes through the almost-panic making its way down his body to his feet.

 

_Don’t--_

 

“Hey, Cisco.”

 

Barry’s standing in the doorway of his workshop, leaning against the frame and looking at him with soft, understanding eyes.

 

_He knows._

 

The knowledge comes with such a powerful certainty that it nearly rocks Cisco off his feet. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. Defensive, though he knows he shouldn’t have to be--after all, he’s _right_ about doing this.

 

“Caitlin told you?” Cisco asks. For a moment, Barry looks--surprised? Confused?--but then he just sighs and glances down.

 

“Killer Frost, actually.”

 

“Traitor.”

 

Barry shakes his head. “She was concerned. She thinks you haven’t thought all the implications of _curing metahumans_ through.”

 

“I’m not going to _force_ anyone--”

 

“I know,” Barry interrupts. “But what if it fell into the wrong hands? It’s happened before. What if--”

 

“Not everyone wants their powers, Barry.” Cisco shakes his head. “I know it’s risky, but if this can help someone have a normal life? Shouldn’t we try?”

 

“Maybe. And that’s a discussion we’re going to have to have _._ All of us. _Together._ We have to make this decision as a team.” Barry pulls a chair out from in front of one of Cisco’s monitors and sits down, gesturing at the other one. Cisco hesitates. “There was something else Killer Frost said,” Barry continues, patient and careful, and Cisco finds himself squirming where he stands.

 

“What did she say?” Cisco asks.

 

Barry clasps his hands over his knees and Cisco bites back a hysterical laugh. In his jeans and sweater and quiet, disappointed expression, Barry looks so much like a _dad_. Nora is, technically, not more than a few years younger than them, but Barry’s taken to parenting like he’s been doing it all her life.

 

The whole thing would feel patronizing, but this is just another one of Barry’s heart-to-hearts. Cisco knows how it goes.

 

“She said you want to get rid of your powers,” Barry responds. “And she thinks you were lying about why.”

 

Cisco drops his gaze. To buy himself time, he slowly walks over to the empty chair across from Barry and slumps down. He knew neither Caitlin nor Killer Frost would actually buy his explanation. He just hopes Barry will--or even if he doesn’t, that he’ll get distracted enough when Cisco mentions wanting to _have a kid_ that he’ll ramble about Nora for a minute and forget about the whole thing. “I wasn’t lying,” he says. “After Cynthia, after… the way things ended, I was just thinking. What if I never have another chance? I want--”

 

“Cisco.” Barry sighs. “I get the breakup was hard. But you _love_ being a hero. I just--I guess I don’t understand why that would make you want to give that up. And I can’t help thinking there was something else.”

 

 _Damn_ . So, not as easy as he thought. The itching in his palms is slowly starting to burn. Cisco rubs his hands over his thighs. “Cicada killed me,” Cisco tries. He hopes it doesn’t sound as desperate to Barry as it sounds to his own ears. “I’m scared that--now he knows I’m alive--he’ll come for me again. And all the other metas.” He closes his eyes and tries to shove away the rolling in his stomach. The truth is, he _is_ scared.

 

Just--not of Cicada.

 

_An endless void._

 

_A man standing in front of him, wrapped in such power it makes Cisco dizzy. He can taste it on his tongue, metallic, like blood. He wants to hide, but his hair is still braided away from his face, and his glasses are somewhere in another reality, and he is here._

 

_Exposed._

 

_A hundred thousand million universes in his head, splitting him apart. His face, multiplied by infinity._

 

_The man telling him--_

 

There’s a hand on his forehead.

 

“Cisco?”

 

His face is wet.

 

“You’re having a panic attack.” Barry’s voice is calm and even, shattering the memory apart. Cisco breathes and opens his eyes to see his friend kneeling in front of him. Worried.

 

“I’m okay. Just--remembering.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Barry asks gently. Cisco doesn’t, at _all_ , but he also knows Barry won’t leave him alone about this. And since he’s seeing through all of Cisco’s excuses for wanting to make the meta cure, he knows he’ll have to give his friend the truth _._

 

 _Part of it, anyway._ “The Monitor spoke to me,” he starts.

 

“ _What?_ When--”

 

“After you and Oliver fixed reality. There was a moment, right before everything settled into place. Time stopped and I was somewhere else.” Cisco shudders, remembering. “It was so cold, and dark, and _he_ was there. And he _saw_ me.”

 

Cisco wraps his arms around himself. He’s going to have to be careful with the next part. Secrets on Team Flash have a way of getting out anyway, but he’s not ready for Barry to know the worst of it. Not yet.

 

“He showed me what I can do. _All_ of what I can do. Visions, vibrational blasts, breaches--they’re _nothing_ compared to--” he stops. _Careful_ , he reminds himself. “It was too much. And after Caitlin took the shards out of my hands, and I had my full powers back, I could feel that potential. I can _still_ feel it. It _burns,_ Barry. And I’m scared.”

 

Barry nods. “Hey, I understand,” he says. “You know I understand--every time I speak with the Speed Force, I get the exact same feeling. Like my powers, and their potential, are too big for my skin. Like I’m part of something so big it’ll swallow me whole.” He smiles ruefully. “And, you know, it _has_.”

 

“Yeah,” Cisco says, relieved. He’s not quite sure Barry _does_ understand, but he already feels like his brain is breaking every time he remembers what the Monitor showed him.

 

_You can break the universe apart--_

 

“You don’t have to be afraid, Cisco. I told you--we’re all here for you. We’ve all gone through this. We can still discuss creating a cure with the others, if you really think it’ll help people, but I don’t want you to do it just for yourself.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Central City needs Vibe,” Barry says, smiling encouragingly and grasping Cisco’s shoulder. Cisco just nods. He doesn’t trust his voice.

 

\- - -

 

Cisco cleans the equations off his dry-erase board and stares at the marker in his hand. He knows he should stop, should wait until he can tell the whole team his plan and get the _okay_ to go ahead, but he can’t. He doesn’t know how much time they have. All he knows is that if he doesn’t solve this _in time--_ well, there won’t be any more of it.

 

Barry was right; Central City needs Vibe. But this is about more than what Central City needs right now. It's about more than Barry, more than _Cisco._ Central City might need Vibe today, but not at the cost of the entire multiverse.

 

The vibes haven’t stopped since Caitlin healed his hands.

 

His own reflection - fifty feet off the ground, eyes blazing white, and _destruction._

 

Red skies over Central City.


End file.
